Birthday Wishes
by ThisisPorky
Summary: *Re-Upload* Who knew it was Scouts Birthday? Well, when he wakes up no one's around, it seems. No one except one person. But is the day what it seems? It makes no sense and has a Bromance to it. Woopy. Rated for Scoots language.
1. Chapter 1

Just another normal day at Teu_fort, thought the Scout. He'd just woken up to the chill of the wind biting at his un-covered side at seven in the morning, which, to be fair, was a little strange in his books, since Soldier was usually screaming and shouting and having a sissy-fit for all of them to be out by the crack of dawn. An hours lay-in. Quite odd, but when he looked outside to the fresh blanket of snow that rested on the tops of houses and covering the shell and blood-covered floor, he somehow got the logic of having a lay-in. Even if he couldn't be bothered to say or think it, he knew the snow was the cause of the interruption of Soldier not breaking down his door and giving him a headache.

Sighing, he shivered gently and swung his socked feet over the bed. Rubbing his eyes, he got up and got dressed, plopping his hat onto his head and swinging the dog-tags around his neck, his final task was wrapping his hands up in the bandages. After all that, he walked out.

The corridor had a chill running down it, a sign that the heating was probably broken. Either that or Soldier was still, shockingly, asleep. Now that was strange, and that day wasn't as normal as the Scout would have hoped for.

7:10 struck. As the youngest killer in the team entered the dining room, he saw not a soul. He was usually the last person there, but there he stood as the first one to enter. Rubbing his head, confused and a bit anxious, he looked around to make sure no one was hiding. Not even the snores from the drunken sleeping Demoman filled his ears, nor did the stink of smoke from Spy's cigarette float to his nostrils like it always did. No Soldier making everyone's breakfast and no Heavy cleaning his Mini-Gun at the far corner of the room with Medic sat next to him with a blood-covered dove perched on his gloved finger or resting pecking at his ear on his shoulder. No Sniper to tell Pyro a new exciting story as the fire-bug listened on about the time he wrestled a crocodile in a crocodile-infested lakes or marshes and no Engineer making the atmosphere nice with his gentle guitar music.

'...Hello?' He called, looking around once more. 'Anyone 'ere?' No reply. It was Engie that usually greeted him in the morning after Soldiers voice made his ears ring, something that the Scout secretly enjoyed; to be noticed by at least someone, and in a nice way. After a small nod to the man, he'd go join the story being told by Sniper or go and tell Spy how much of a cock-fag he is for smoking and how he was soon going to kill himself because of it. Heavy would often look at him with a brow raised, as if to question his actions of breathing and walking, and when he'd found a place by the table, Soldier would usually slide his breakfast under him, which were pancakes dripping in golden syrup. And after that everyone else would join him and they'd all chatter; maybe a few small brawls here and there thanks to Soldier and Demo's challenging against one another or Soldier's arrogance getting on the Russian bears nerves.

But not today.

The boy waited till it was 8 for anyone to join him, to walk into the room and show any sign of activity. But no one came.

No cock fag of a "stoopid Frenchie" Spy.

No loud-mouthed Soldier.

Not even the hungry bear, that would raid the fridge after he'd consumed his sandvich entered.

He sighed to himself before getting up. It had snowed outside. Maybe everyone would be out there, covered in the white stuff while lobbing snow-balls at each other, but surely he would have heard their screms, right...?

Grabbing his jacket from his room, he jogged to the outside. It was deep, but it didn't seep into his shoes. He saw no foot-prints, no sign of anyone being in this location. He checked behind the base, in the court-yard, he was even tempted to go over to the BLU side and see if anyone was there. But the idea was quickly shoved a-side as he walked back into the base. The last time he went for a run in the snow, he slipped and broke his arm, and the memories were all too fresh and painful in his mind, only making his body shiver and hair raise on the back of his neck.

He hated that cast.

He shuck the snow from his football shoes before walking back inside the base. Maybe they were all asleep, still wrapped up in their beds. Maybe it was cease-fire and he didn't know. Maybe he had missed the Announcer announce everything before-hand.

But when he jogged to check into everyone's room expect one, he saw no sign of anyone. No Mumbles, no drunken wretch, no dove-lover. The beds were made and left, a few things gone from their places. Scout felt something break inside him, something he'd only felt once back in Boston. He hated feeling alone. He hated having no one to talk to or no one to mock, no one to sit next to him to tell stories or no one telling him stories or other random crap. He didn't like being all alone in a big base with no one but himself inside.

He decided to check the near-by train. Their was one working near Teu_Fort, the way they escaped this place was through that train on Christmas and Thanks-Giving. If it was still there, in its spot, then the team was hiding. But when he got there, he saw no train.

He saw very faint footsteps being covered up by the slowly falling snow going up to where the train was supposed to be, seeing snow on the tracks showing they leaved early.

To avoid taking him along the ride to where-ever they were going.

His shoulders slummed as the breaking feeling returned. The wind picked up, more of a biting coldness nipped at his ankles and neck, but he didn't care. He wanted to be with someone, not stay warm.

As he walked slowly back to the base, he was lost in thought. He knew he was annoying, he knew he was a pain in the ass, but not to the extent that the whole team - the whole bloody team - would leave him alone with the base. The crunching of the snow was the only sound he could hear, no whistle in the wind or the shooting of mini-guns or shotguns. Battles always started at around nine sharp, but not one BLU had left their base.

Maybe they'd gone somewhere, too.

He reached the base, feeling empty inside. But then, he saw the phone.

'Fuckin' hell...' Was all he muttered as he slammed the phone back to its place. Not even a connection. He couldn't reach his Ma; all he heard was the irritating Female voice and beeping sound right after, and the third attempt wasn't lucky and didn't change the tone. He was frustrated, annoyed, alone. After rubbing his temples, the boy decided to go to the kitchen; he was starving and needed something before he puked.

Not being an excellent cook and not one with the whole kitchen/cooking thing, it was hard on deciding what to nibble on when nearly everything was raw and in need of cooking or heating up. He wasn't even skilled enough to use a microwave, and that's saying something. He tapped his chin, looking over the fridge, seeing a mixture of things. His hand reached in and retrieved the BONK! energy drink, clipping it open and taking a sip before looking to the food range. Nothing sparked his fancy: Some rips, cake, steak, even some apples and pears were in there. But his eyes landed on the one thing he had always wanted to try.

Heavies Sandvich.

Well, he wasn't here, was he? Why not have it? I mean, he's with the others, maybe having a great time, while I'm stuck here with fuck all to do and no mind where they went. So, fuck him. Fuck all of them.

His thoughts were clear.

He grabbed it and slammed the door shut before heading over to the ripped and torn couch. And as soon as he placed himself there, things were looking up. This was all a break from all the war business. This was basically a treat. Not having to get up early, having the place to yourself, having someone else's lunch without them punching all of your blood out, having the chance to sit on the couch without anyone else on it, pushing you off. Yeah, he could get used to this. He was starting to _enjoy_ it.

He sighed, content with the way he was, the feeling from before slipping away as he took a small bite into the sandvich. But then, he nearly chocked on it.

'Vhere is everyone, baby m-...!' The Heavy was glaring down at him, seeing as he had just taken a bite of one - of many - things he loved and wanted no one else to touch other than his close friend Medic. 'You...have Sandvich...' He almost growled, making the boys eyes go wide in fear. He was sure they would pop out or explode or something from the amount of fear flashing in them and how wide they were going. Quickly swallowing what was in his mouth, he placed it down on the worn-out coffee table slowly and carefully, keeping his gaze locked with the others.

'H-Heavy, 'a di-didn't kn-know you were still 'ere!' He uttered, shaking gently as the man slowly stomped his way over to him. He looked angry. Smash-angry.

'You touch sandvich...' He said again while looming over him, the boy trying to blend in and sink into the couches arm. 'No one touch Heavy's Sandvich vithout _my_ say-so...' He slowly raised his fist, making Scout whimper and close his eyes.

'I-I'm sorry, man! I-I thought you'd g-gone with da others! I-if 'a knew you were 'ere, 'a w-would 'a nevah' touched it! 'A woulda asked!_ Oh god please don't hurt me!_' He covered his capped head with his wrapped hands, waiting for the impact to be over. Five seconds passed. So did ten. Slowly, fifthteen rolled by.

He opened one eye and peeked through his fingers to the man, who was still looming over him with the angry gaze plastered to his face, but his fist had lowered.

'...Everyone gone, da?' He asked, never retreating his deathful look. The boy nodded slowly, still shaking gently. 'Vhere gone?'

'N-no idea...'

'Hmm...is strange...' He finally looked away, tapping his chin gently in thought. He certainly wasn't stupid, even if he acted it, something the Spy had learned in a game of chess. Soldier learned the hard way when he was knocked into the wall with a thump from the bears hand from something he had said to him. 'How long you be here?' He turned back to Scout, who was rubbing his head and breathing quickly.

'Since 'a got up...' He slowly spoke, then rubbing his beating heart. 'Saw no one, and Solly didn't botha' ta wake me up.' A light shrug was seen, and he looked away as his hand returned to his lap. He felt himself sink to the left side gently as the Heavy sat down beside him, still in thought. ''A mean, whats so special about taday? It's only the 23rd 'a March, nothin' special about 'dat day. ...Is d'here?' He looked over to him, who was staring back.

'I do not think so...' Scout was just glad he wasn't alone anymore. Having someone close to him was a relief from having no one at all, even if he would prefer someone else, like Sniper or Spy. 'Vell. Vhat should ve do?' They just stared at each other for what seemed like forever, but then, an idea hatched in the boys head.

'Make a snowman!' The man raised a brow.

'Vhy?'

'Why da hell not? 'A mean, its snowed, and da otha's aren't here ta wreck it, so why not?' The Heavy smiled smally, forgetting the whole sandvich business and nodded gently.

'Da! Is good idea!'

* * *

A change into thicker clothes later, the two were out in the deep snow making their snowman. The Heavy had already made the body, which was a big ball. He'd rolled it over most of the base and rested it in the court-yard in their own respected RED base. Meanwhile, the Scout was struggling to roll his ball back to where the Heavy's was. The ball was medium size, and he was on the bridge, grunting and growling as he tried to push it to the other side. He did, with much effort. But their was no way he could roll it that far. All the energy had been drained from him.

'Fuckin' Christ...!' He muttered, rubbing his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. 'Come on, Scout...it ain't 'dat big...or heavy...just roll the fucker there!' With a loud grunt and a hard push, he made the ball roll inside their base. 'Yes!' He cheered, plonking his body over the large snow-ball and gently panting, his face red from pure exhaustion.

'Baby man? ...You okay?' The Heavy asked, walking out to look at him. A small smile spread across his face as he saw him, panting lightly on his seemingly small ball. 'Leetle man need help, da?'

'...N-no! I'm fine...!' Leaning off the snowball, he rubbed away a stray of sweat from his bro before smashing into the balls side, grunts and growls escaping into the air as he tried with all the might he had left to roll the ball further into the base. But he only got so far before he was panting harder, and collapsed back down onto the ball of snow. '...Y-yeah...' He softly muttered under his breath.

The bear chuckled gently, walking over to the lad before picking up the ball, making Scout roll off. With a gentle "oof", he landed on his stomach. He watched from the floor as the Heavy carried it to the court-yard with ease, and a small thud was heard. Quickly getting to his feet, he raced to where the snowman was located, his energy suddenly being collected back to him.

And there it stood.

Sure, it was bare, all it needed was some eyes, a hat, maybe a scarf, and some arms. Then, it would be perfect. 'Aw, man!' The Scout chirped as his eyes clapped onto the heap of snow. 'This'll be da best snowman in the world!'

'Is too bare, though.' Heavy pointed out, resting his head in his right paw and a thinking gaze crossing his face. 'It need clothes and eyes.' The Scout nodded before looking around with excited eyes.

'Yo, any branches anywhere, big guy?' The Heavy eyed him.

'It does not look like we have any tree's.' A small smirk came from the boy as he looked back to the Russian.

'Alright, then; lets focus on the otha' parts. We needs eyes, so we need stones. ...Hey, maybe we could have an eye-patch ta' make it look like Demo!'

'Baby Scottish Cyclops?'

'Yeah! And, like, a helmet for Soldier!'

'Da! And gloves like Heavy!'

'Yeah, bro! Come on!' He raced over to the re-spawn room, closely followed by the Heavy. There, they picked out the Soldiers spare helmet, Demo's other eye-patch, some bullet shells for the eyes, mouth, nose and buttons, and they even used Scouts bats for the arms. The Heavy took off his gloves as they ran back to the snowman.

The eye was placed on first, followed by the eye patch on the right side. The Heavy placed on the helmet while Scout did the buttons. When they'd finished, they both put the bats in for the arms, and the Heavy popped the gloves over the tops. Scout then removed his stripped scarf and placed it around the others frost-bitten neck, making a small knot at the top. The remaining shells were used for the nose and mouth, which came out in a weird shape but the pair didn't care.

'Is good,' Heavy said, taking a step back and placing both hands on his hips as he observed their creation.

'Yeah, it is,' The Scout replied back, staring at it. 'reminds me 'a when 'dat shit snow came down in Boston. Me, Ma and me brotha's would make a small one and name it somethin'.' The bear chuckled.

'Vhat were names for baby snowman?'

'Well, 'a named one Jodie, one time... Ma named one...uh, 'a think it was Philip, and mah oldest brotha' named one... Tony...annnnd...the second youngest called one Luke.'

'Vhat name should we give this?' They looked at each other, a smile forming over Scouts face.

'What about...Snowball?'

'Mmm...no.'

'Ness...?'

'Nyet.'

'Cheshire?'

'No.'

'What, then?'

'I was thinking more...Scout.' The youngest looked at him, confused.

'Why that?'

'Vell, vhy not?'

'Well, what 'bout 'eavy?'

The snow continued to fall slowly as they discussed what to name the snowman they had both made. Names poured on, like Snowy and Max, from Alice to Conner to Tieson and even Kitty, but both of them couldn't agree on any of them. But then, Heavy said something that made the Scout flinch.

'Vhat abooooout...Maria?'

'...M-Maria...?'

'Da! Vhy not let it be that?' The boy looked blankly at the snow in front of him, oblivious to the man staring at him from the side. '...Leetle man alright?'

'Yeah...Maria...lets c-call it 'dat...' He smiled again before looking away, chuckling. 'Maria da snow-woman. Seems okay enough.'

'Let get inside. It getting cold for baby man.' He placed a giant hand over the others shoulder, gently pulling him towards the entrance of the base as the wind howled past the pair. The smile was still there, and nothing could wipe it off. He'd been with someone today, the feeling of being alone burning down like an enemy Spy would. He'd just made a snowman and called it after his Ma's name, something that made his heart spark with sudden joy for some reason. And he wasn't being ignored for once.

He felt wanted.

* * *

'So, baby man still vant sandvich?'

'...What?' He was handed the sandvich he had taken a nibble of this morning, a smile across the bears face as he retrieved his own. '...You being serious?' He nodded. 'This ain't no trick, right?' The bear shuck his head with a wide smile across his freshly shaven face. '...You sure?'

'Just take, baby man!' He chuckled and sat next to him, taking a hold of the blanket being shared between them and placed it over his lap.

'Thanks, man!' The bunny took it from the bears paws, taking another small bite into it, closing his eyes as he savored the taste of the ham and lettuce and freshly baked bread. 'Aw, man, this is so good~' He almost moaned as he swallowed the contents, taking another bite from it. If he was a dog, his take would be wagging at blinding speed. The Heavy took a bite from his own as he watched the other, observing how he was much quieter and content when the other classes weren't around him. He was finally laid back and his mouth was sealed shut. He wasn't boasting about any base-ball game he'd won or about that time he'd batted someone's skull in with his bat, or how he managed to get a "home frickin' run" from that base-ball he'd hit from one end of the base to the other. He wasn't as shifty or fidgety as he usually was, and he wasn't hot headed or wanting to have a fight with someone. He was calm, still, quiet. This was a blessed moment for anyone on the team, especially the Heavy.

As the two had finished eating their lunches, the Scout sighed, rubbing his eyes. The clock flashed 10:34PM. 'Taday's been fun.' The bunny spoke softly spoke, looking down to the folds of the blanket. The Heavy nodded gently.

'Da. It has. Been change from killing baby BLU team all day.' Scout chuckled softly before looking over to him.

'Uh...look, Heav'...I...you know, ain't one for...saying thanks...'n' shit...' The Heavy looked over to him, a smile across his freshly shaved face as he reached out and rubbed the others head gently, making his hat crooked.

'No need to.' After a-justing his hat and looking at him again, they both chuckled gently.

'Ya know, I'm even tempted ta hug ya. But 'dats sissy and girly stuff, so 'a ain't.' A shocked look came from the Heavy.

'Me and Medic hug all time, but ve no sissy!' Well, the Scout was regretting what he'd just uttered in a flash.

'...U-uh...well, i-it ain't sissy...'a just...it ain't girly and sissy, I-I just heard Snipah say 'dat!' He chuckled nervously. 'Y-yeah! I just don't like 'em, not sayin' they're sissy or girly or nothin'.' Crossing his arms, the boy looked away, hoping he bought his lie. It seemed to work.

'Vell, I hug! I hugging person, and no baby Sniper is going to change me!' And before Scout knew what was happening, he was brought into a hug by the bear. And it wasn't one of them that would crush anyone's bones and spine, it was a soft and caring one, something that made the Scout feel all tingly and funny-feeling inside after a few slow seconds. No, not that kind of tingly, the one he got when his Ma hugged him or he had done something right and he was proud of, for once.

After a few awkward minuets of hugging and silence, Heavy pulled away and looked at the boy, who's face was red, making him laugh gently as he rubbed his head, once again making his hat crooked. 'Get some sleep. Baby man need it.' He nodded gently before slipping the blanket off him and slowly making his way to his room, leaving the Heavy with a wide smile and a tingly feeling of his own in the pit of his stomach.

Morning soon came. The sun shone in from the window and onto the Scouts bed, small snores coming from that location. And then, the Heavy came into his room, holding a small cake. 'Scout. Vake up.' His words were spoken gently, the boy mumbling and shifting on the bed.

'Go away, Ma...' His mumbles were faint as he turned away from the door, bringing the blanket more closer to him. 'I dun wanna go ta' school...' The bear nearly laughed out loud from his sudden comment.

'Scout, is important. Come on, vake up.' Scout moaned again, turning towards the Heavy with his eyes tightly closed.

'But Ma, 'a...don't feel well...' Ah, the old "I feel sick keep me home" routine, something Heavy had used many times. 'I not Mother, baby man.' At that moment, the Spy joined him, holding something wrapped in sliver and green paper, a small bow at the top.

'He hasn't 'oke yet?' Heavy shuck his head, smiling. Both of them were also wearing party hats the colour of red, may I add. 'Zcout, if you do not 'ake up 'zis instant, your bonk will be vasted.'

'What...?' He opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the strong sun, making him hiss and close them again. 'What the fuck, man...? I was sleepin'...'

'Is time to 'ake up, mon lapin.'

'It's too early to be understanding French, cock-fag...wait...Spy?' Slowly opening his eyes, he looked at him, seeing the blurry vision of the Spies silhouette before him.

'Oui. Sorry about yesterday, if we told you vhere ve vere going, you would have vanted to come along. And 'zat vould have spoiled it.'

'Spoiled what, man...? What 'dats? An' why are ya wearing party 'ats?'

'Happy Birthday, baby man! Come, ve have party in Vreck room!' The Heavy was off like a bullet, as fast as Scout himself, leaving only the Spy and a trail of dust behind in his wake.

'Vell? Are you coming or not, monsiour?' He smirked and left the boy where he was, following the Heavy down to the main hall.

'...?! Yo, wait up, man!'


	2. Chapter 2

'Happy birthday, Scout!' Everyone screamed at once, sending the kid to his butt. Everyone laughed as they came out of their hiding places to greet him. Everyone was holding a box wrapped up in different colour's, all with Scouts name on it, making him beam with excitement and smile as wide as Cheshire the cat.

'Are d'hey all for me?' He asked as he got back to his feet.

'Ja! We bought vhat ve think you vould like best!' Blurted out Medic, smiling.

'Private, we always celebrate anyone's birthday!'

'Yeah, even a wanka' like you.'

'Aww, fella's!'

As the time went on, everyone was happy and bubbly. The presents were ripped open, and he'd received some more BONK! from Medic, a new bat from Spy, some cake from Heavy, a teddy from Engineer, a new back-pack from Pyro, some scrumpie from Demo, an alarm clock from Soldier, and a new jacket from Sniper. He even got some birthday cards from home by his Ma and brothers.

He'd never been so happy in his life: Making a snowman and calling it Maria, receiving all these gifts from home and the mercs.

Oh, if only the two days had been true.

'EVERYONE WAKE UP! YOU'RE NOT PAID FOR SLEEPING AROUND; GET YOUR ASSES OUT OF BED THIS MINUET BEFORE I DRAG YOUR SORRY ASSES OUT MYSELF!'

'Wha...' The Scout slowly opened his heavy eyes, seeing nothing but darkness in his wake. He leaned up and rubbed his eyes slowly, looking around and seeing no wrapping paper or happy classes. He just saw his room. Nothing more, apart from the clock blinking 6:00AM. Nothing from home; no gifts from the people he worked with. Nothing. No bats or jackets, no back-packs or alarm clocks.

He tilted his head, a frown spreading across his face as he threw his socked feet over the bed, shivering at the slight coldness that howled through the room. He got dressed and left, heading to the kitchen.

There, he saw everyone else in the place he always saw them. He wasn't alone.

'Hey, son.' Engie greeted softly, never looking away from the guitar perched on his lap as he plucked the keys gently.

'Hey, Engie...' He replied before walking into the room. The Soldier was by the stove, making people's breakfast while Sniper sat by Pyro and Spy, telling them yet another extraordinary story where he was out in the Australium out-back with nothing more than his kuriki and one single bottle of water while he survived a month of eating snakes. He could soon enough smell the strong smoke of the Spy's cigarette, making him wince and cough gently, wafting his bandaged hand in the air to try and get rid of the horrible stink. He then noticed the Heavy staring at him with that brow raised while he slowly cleaned Sasha, his mini gun, with Medic sat beside him with a blood-stained dove perched on his gloved-finger as the man stared into space, his head resting in his free hand. A light mumble of foreign talk could be heard from the German as his lips limply moved, but Scout just ignored it and went on his way. He could hear Demo's light snores coming from under the table, also smelling the stench of his scrumpie. At least it was bearable to smell.

'Alright, ladies, eat up.' Everyone went to their places on the table, the Soldier sliding the plates filled with different kinds of food resting on them in front of the killers. As the Scout looked around, he saw different things, like rips, frog-legs, something Russian and something German, and as Demo scrambled from under the table, holding his scrumpie close to his chest, he looked around and saw his dish next to Solider's.

As everyone finished up, they all looked at Scout curiously.

'Baby man no talk so much...' Uttered Heavy, leaning back in the small wooden chair as he watched him.

'What?' He looked up from poking his tower of pancakes, watching the syrup drool off the side wasn't that entertaining but it had to make do. 'Oh, dunno. Got nothin' ta say.'

''Zat is a change. Are you feeling alright?' Spy asked him, looking over to him with a little worry sparkling in his blue eyes.

'I'm fine, cock-fag.' He replied bitterly, averting his gaze back to the tower of well-made pancakes.

'...Alright.' He simply replied with. After a short while, everyone but Scout was left at the table. He still hadn't ate any of the food facing him, nor did he feel like eating. When he looked outside, he saw it raining, not snowing. The rain battered hard at the window, guided by the harsh wind that followed. And the date was the 23rd of March, 1969. The same date as the one he'd dreamt of. But with no snowman, no birthday presents, and no surprises. Nothing.

It was all just a dream, and was believed by the fool who dreamt it.


End file.
